


all made up (nowhere to go)

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Genderqueer Character, M/M, Makeup, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Koutarou steals Keiji's lipstick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all made up (nowhere to go)

**Author's Note:**

> written for bokuakakuroweek day 7: secrets/revelations. (originally i started this for day 5: creativity, but then i was too slow, but it's a little bit of that too...) thank you to bishop for encouragement. bokuto is a dfab trans dude (he/him), kuroo (he/him) and akaashi (they/them) are both dmab nonbinary.

Sometimes Koutarou steals Keiji’s lipstick. None of them comment on it. Tetsurou almost did, once, a throwaway comment about how Kou didn’t usually taste like strawberries, but he held it back. Koutarou never draws attention to it, but there’s an undeniable sheen to his lips when he’s been home alone, something he’s usually quick to lick off as soon as anyone else is around.

Tetsurou asks Keiji about it one day, while leaning on the door frame and absently watching them do their make up. “Kou uses that too, you know,” he says as they reach for the lip gloss.

They shrug, eyes fastened on their own reflection in the mirror as they start to apply it. “I figured. He wouldn’t steal yours.”

Tetsurou has two lipsticks - one black and one maroon, both for very particular ‘fuck you’ moods. He gets what Keiji means. “Did he ask if he could borrow it, though?”

“No.”

“He should have.” Tetsurou is a little angry, suddenly, that Koutarou is doing this bhind their backs, that he’s not letting either of them be part of whatever it is he’s doing.

“It’s fine,” Keiji says, having moved on to defining their brows. “I don’t want to make him talk about it if he doesn’t want to.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tetsurou says. From the living room, there is an excited yell and a  _ Tetsu, Tetsu, holy shit, come look at this goal! _

Keiji turns to look at him. They open their mouth, newly glossy lips shimmering, but after a long moment they close it again, giving him a slight smile. “You should go look.”

Tetsurou grunts in agreement, pushing off the door frame and going to sit on the couch. Koutarou’s replay of his FIFA goal is still on the screen, and he’s bouncing excitedly in his seat like a kid, waiting for Tetsurou’s praise. “Okay, that is actually really cool,” Tetsurou says, eyes following the line of the soccer ball.

“Isn’t it?  _ Man, _ this was the best present ever. Thank you!”

“No problem.”

“You wanna play?”

“Alright,” Tetsurou says, reaching for the other controller, and then every thought about makeup and secrets disappears from his head as he gets invested in trying to beat Koutarou’s ass in virtual football.

*

It starts with the lip gloss. Then, suddenly, Koutarou’s lashes are a stark black, long and fine where they brush against his skin. They’re usually so pale they can hardly be seen except in profile, but now they’re thick and dark where they frame his eyes, making them seem bigger and more intense, arresting where they sit in his face.

It’s only when Koutarou starts to fidget that Tetsurou realises he’s been staring, and Keiji nudges him lightly with their elbow to make him look away. Koutarou clears his throat, reaching up to rub self-consciously at his eyes, smudging the mascara. “A-anyway, did you guys have a nice time out?”

Tetsurou nods, eyes still tracing the lines of Koutarou’s eyelashes. “Yeah. The movie was good.”

They’d gone to see something artsy, an international movie Koutarou begged out of, insisting he’d rather go to the gym and do chores. “How was the gym?” Keiji asks.

“Oh, it was - it was good,” Koutarou says, a little hurried. “Um, I’ll just go - brush my face - bye -” He slips away towards the bathroom, Tetsurou staring after him.

“Seriously, what the fuck’s going on?” he asks Keiji.

Keiji shrugs. “Let him do what he wants. Does it bother you?”

“No,” Tetsurou says, and  _ no, _ it doesn’t bother him. He never quite fit into the male label himself, of course it doesn’t bother him, it’s just… “It’s kinda unsanitary,” he says finally, but that’s a ridiculous excuse, something that’s never bothered him before, and Keiji doesn’t even bother acknowledging it.

He just wants Koutarou to  _ talk _ to them, because this pussy footing around is immature and childish, and they don’t keep secrets.

They don’t keep secrets, that’s the whole point of a relationship. Especially not badly covered up ones such as this.

It’s - whatever. “I’m gonna go do some work,” he says, and heads to the living room, the opposite way of Koutarou.

*

It’s not that it bothers him. Tetsurou doesn’t think of it often, and Koutarou’s excitable nature makes it hard to remember anything around him, because Tetsurou gets so caught up in what’s happening and what they’re talking about that he forgets all about makeup and long lashes and shimmering, pink lips.

But something always reminds him again. Sometimes Koutarou’s lips taste like strawberry, and sometimes there are dark smudges around his eyes, and still no one is saying anything.

Keiji is fine with it, Tetsurou knows. They want to give Koutarou space to experiment, and Tetsurou wants that too, but he still doesn’t want any space between them. He wants to be close to both of them, close enough that they can keep each other afloat.

And Koutarou is - he’s doing  _ something _ , experimenting or whatever, but all it comes across as is a lack of trust.

Tetsurou knows the reasonable, adult thing to do. He should sit down with Koutarou, explain how it’s making him feel, and then listen to what Koutarou has to say.

But Tetsurou has spent all of his reasonable, adult judgement on taxes and sensible discounts, so he decides to go with something more dramatic.

Step one involves alcohol. This one is easy. He waits until the weekend, then suggests a celebratory drink, since he coincidentally picked up some sake the other day. Keiji hums, but agrees, since they don’t have work in the morning, and Koutarou’s never one to turn down a drink. Tetsurou grins at them both and moves to get the glasses and the bottle, setting them down on the table and pouring for them all.

“You’re so charitable,” Koutarou says, taking a big sip of his glass. “Always sharin’.”

“Someone’s gotta.”

“Hey! I share things,” Koutarou says, but the mock offense falls flat as Tetsurou’s glare has too much force behind it. “What?”

Tetsurou shakes his head and drinks. “Nothing.”

Keiji, who’s been watching them, lets out a quiet sigh. “Did you guys see they’re opening up a new American restaurant down the street?”

“Yeah! I wanna go.”

“We should go for date night,” Tetsurou says, thigh pressing against Koutarou’s in apology.

“Sounds good to me,” Koutarou says, leaning back against him. All good.

Step two involves make up. Tetsurou waits for a lull in the conversation, which has been going smoothly after the first hiccup, to excuse himself to the bathroom. Koutarou holds him back, wrapping his hand around his neck to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and then Keiji insists on kissing him too while Tetsurou laughs. “I’m just going to the bathroom!”

“You gotta know we love you,” Koutarou says seriously. Keiji shakes their head, smiling.

“Go.”

Tetsurou goes, still smiling, and finds his black lipstick in the bathroom cabinet, the one Keiji bought him. He applies it delicately, smacking his lips in the mirror and making sure nothing’s on his teeth. The bottomless dark of his mouth always makes him grin, and his grin looks sexier, more untamed when framed by black. He runs a finger over his bottom lip to make sure the lipstick is still smearing, and then he goes back out to join the other two in the living room.

“Hey, you took your - oh…” Koutarou trails off, staring, and Tetsurou doesn’t waste time before sitting down next to him, pressing in close and kissing him deeply and messily. Koutarou makes a surprised noise, but it doesn’t take long until he relaxes into it, letting Tetsurou have full control of the kiss. Tetsurou rubs their lips together one final time before pulling back, eyes lidded as they skate over Koutarou’s face.

The lipstick has rubbed off onto Koutarou’s lips, making them shine darkly, wet with spit and reddening underneath. “You look good,” Tetsurou tells him, voice hoarse, fingers tilting Koutarou’s head into the light. “Doesn’t he, Keiji?”

Keiji hums, pupils blow, looking between them. “He does. You do, Koutarou.”

Koutarou flushes, eyes darting. “You guys, what is this…”

“Just  _ talk to us,” _ Tetsurou says aggressively, tugging on Koutarou’s bottom lip before letting him go. “Why aren’t you talking to us?”

“About what? I don’t have anything, I don’t know what you’re -...Keiji?”

“The make up,” Keiji says, pulling Tetsurou’s hands away. “My make up. You use it, right?”

“I - I mean, well, I don’t - would it be bad if I did?” Koutarou looks scared, eyes darting between them, and at once the air leaves Tetsurou’s chest and he hugs him, face burrowing into his neck.

“No, don’t look like that,” he mumbles, squeezing him. “I’m sorry for yellin’, but why are you keeping secrets all of a sudden? We don’t keep secrets.”

Koutarou inhales deeply - Tetsurou can feel his chest rising, and then his arms are coming up to wrap around Tetsurou, holding him close. “‘M sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Tetsurou says, sitting back. “Just - talk to us, come on.”

Keiji reaches out silently, their hand wrapping around Koutarou’s thigh. “I want to hear, too,” they admit. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I want to know, if you’ll talk about it.”

“Oh, great, Koutarou sharing time,” Koutarou says, but he doesn’t look like he’s going to bolt, so Tetsurou relaxes. “I, uh… I dunno, it’s - ‘cause, like, maybe I thought people would doubt my masculinity, ya know? Since I’m trans and shit, maybe people would be like haha, you actually wanna be a girl, you done fucked up now.”

There’s a moment of silence. Tetsurou frowns, worried - he had no idea there was a complex behind this, he thought Koutarou was just hiding it for shits and giggles, but something like this…

“No,” Keiji says, shaking their head. “That’s not it.”

“What?” Tetsurou and Koutarou say in almost unison, looking at them.

“Are you saying he’s a liar?” Tetsurou asks Keiji, brows raised.

“No, no,” Keiji says. They look at Koutarou. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

Koutarou’s quiet, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, and Tetsurou instantly sees that Keiji was right. “It’s just…” Koutarou begins, then trails off.

“Come on,” Tetsurou says, shifting closer. “Talk to me. Talk to us.”

“It’s kinda - your thing. I didn’t wanna… steal it.”

Keiji and Tetsurou look at each other, frowning. “Our thing?”

“Yeah, your thing. Y’know, make up.”

“Make up isn’t our thing,” Tetsurou says.

“It is!” Koutarou protests. “You buy it for each other, ‘n you help each other, ‘n you - watch each other put it on and stuff, and I… I dunno, I don’t wanna interrupt that.” He shifts on the floor where they’re sitting, looking away.

That’s not the whole story, Tetsurou can tell. Koutarou’s still done this, though, gone behind their backs to try it alone, because he didn’t want to interrupt…

“Did we leave you behind?”

Koutarou blinks, a flash of emotion striking his face before he shakes his head vigorously, finding his glass to hide behind it. “No, ‘course not! ‘N besides, it’s good to have - different dynamics ‘n stuff, ‘n, you know, I’m fine with - I’m  _ fine,  _ it’s not - it’s not like that, I just…”

“Shit, Kou,” Tetsurou says, taking Koutarou’s glass and putting it down on the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

Koutarou shakes his head again, looking away. “It’s - seriously, it’s fine, it’s - and I’m not, y’know, I identify differently than you guys and all that jazz, so it just - it makes sense that I’m not…”

“That you’re not what?” Keiji prods, squeezing Koutarou’s thigh.

“That I’m not… I dunno, a part of that. I guess.”

There’s silence for a beat. Tetsurou wants to take himself out back and beat himself up, but that wouldn’t help anything, and he didn’t know - neither of them knew Koutarou felt like this.

“You can be, though.” It’s Keiji that speaks, and Koutarou looks up, meeting their gaze for half a second before he looks down, shrugging.

“Really. It’d be fun to show you,” Tetsurou chimes in. He wraps an arm around Koutarou’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You know Keiji loves dollin’ people up.”

“If you guys are sure,” Koutarou begins, and Tetsurou knows he’s cracked. He laughs, and Koutarou laughs too, flushed and tipsy and embarrassed - Tetsurou moves to kiss him, soft and quick.

“Don’t be afraid to talk to us, okay?” He pulls back to give Keiji space to agree, and they nod.

“We have to talk about things. That’s the only way to solve them.”

“I know,” Koutarou says guiltily. “I just… Man, I hate bein’ like - it makes me feel so rude ‘n ungrateful and annoying, when it’s just like… hey, guys, cater to my every need, alright?”

“Your needs come before our wants,” Tetsurou says.

“What about your needs?”

Tetsurou shrugs. “Then we communicate. See which path has the least losses.”

“We are the body’s blood,” Keiji intones with gravitas, and Koutarou starts laughing, falling back.

“Don’t mock me! I was being serious!”

Keiji shrugs, smiling. “You have such a way with words,” they say, and Koutarou goes off again, snickering into his hands.

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Koutarou says with a grin, and Tetsurou shakes his head, exhaling hard.

“I swear, I buy you guys the nicest sake and all you do is make fun of me…”

“Speaking of! Let’s have some more.” Koutarou sits up, pouring them all another glass. “And, uh, thank you. Both of you.”

He sounds embarrassed, but not humiliated - Tetsurou knows Koutarou’s mind can be a minefield of insecurities and complexes, but this time it sounds like they solved this the right way. “You’re welcome,” Tetsurou says easily, bumping their shoulders together. “Do you forgive us for excluding you?”

“You didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Still…”

“Yeah,” Koutarou says, flushing. “Of course I forgive you.”

Keiji leans over, resting their head on his shoulder. “I love you,” they say, soft and slow. Behind it, there’s a wave of meaning - Tetsurou never understands how Keiji can compress a whole mindset into one simple phrase, but whenever they say it, it always carries such weight. It becomes more than three words. It’s relief, acceptance, appreciation. It’s gratitude.

“I love you too,” Koutarou says, just as quietly.

Tetsurou doesn’t say anything at all, but he holds them so tightly that it can’t mean anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> [tum](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com) | [twt](http://twitter.com/tivruskis)
> 
> the amazing tsukki-draws on tumblr drew fanart for this fic - [view it here](http://tsukki-draws.tumblr.com/post/144957049745/some-fanart-for-this-amazing-fic), and make sure to reblog it!
> 
> [dailyroach](http://dailyroach.tumblr.com) drew some STUNNING fanart for this fic - [check it out here](http://dailyroach.tumblr.com/post/145478904924/basically-im-a-sucker-for-a-good-trans-bokuto-hc) and bask in the beauty!


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